


Tip of the Old Tongue

by Barkour



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, light-hearted sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:36:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7549924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkour/pseuds/Barkour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mei ought to scrub Junkrat's mouth out, the way he talks and talks and talks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tip of the Old Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> (reposting after a disastrous earlier attempt today, whoops.) just some silly, aimless porn as i figure things out.

Mei squeaked: Jamison leapt on her with all the excitement he gave plastic explosives. Such was the curse of dating a younger man. The bed bounced on its frame. She'd a moment's thought of how to explain a broken bed frame to Winston, but Jamie had his face mashed between her breasts and he was starting to growl. Perhaps she had gone mad and that was why she found this endearing.

"Slow down!" She swatted at his shoulders, sun burnt and scattered with little brown moles. "It doesn't always have to be so fast right away. I'm not going anywhere. Not," Mei grumbled, "with you squishing me."

He hooked two fingers, metal ones, in the front-facing clasp of her bra and wiggled down. The metal was cool on her skin, and little goose pimples broke out across her ample chest. 

"Aw." He grinned up at her. It made him look demented with his wetted hair half-flat and half doing whatever it pleased. "But there's so much of you to squish. So soft and--" More growling as he groped at her sides. 

As a younger woman Mei had veered between a defiant pride in her body and the shame expected of her. Now, she was happy with the body she had: the heavy breasts, the heavier belly, the breadth of her thighs and the softness at her throat. That Jamie, unforgivably tall and mostly bone, laid frantic and toothsome kisses across the swell of her tummy: well, that was only a pleasant boon. 

She kicked him in the thigh anyway and frowned. "Don't be rude!"

"That's not rude!" he protested. "That's, what, lovey stuff is what that is."

Mei huffed and popped her hands on her hips. Grinning even more derangedly, Jamie made a go of biting at her bra.

"You don't know the first thing of romance."

"Know enough, don't I?" He preened, slicking his hair back from his face with the flesh hand. The hair plopped right back where it was before. "Seeing as I swept you off your pretty little footsies."

She gasped and poked him again. "Oi, watch me leg, that's the poker--"

"Sorry," she blurted, and then she stuck her chin up and said, "You did no such thing." Brushing his hand aside, Mei combed her fingers through that unruly tangle of hair flapped over his brow. His long, long nose wrinkled; he squinted. "When have you ever swept me off my feet? You're always too busy carrying your precious bombs."

"They need a tender touch! Gotta be careful with a load like that."

She clucked her tongue and then, with utmost delicacy and cold deliberation, Mei executed a move she had not used since her undergraduate days. Tucking her chin, bringing her hands up as though to cover her breasts, Mei trembled her eyelashes. 

Jamie went very still. Fine stress lines emanated in the blanket, where the tip of his prosthetic leg dug in.

Mei swallowed. "More tender," she said, "than me?"

His head nearly lit on fire. That perpetual smell of soot that clung to him seemed to thicken. A frenzy took him. He sat up suddenly and clapped his hands together. 

"Right-o!" he bellowed. "Tick-tock, time's up, fellas," he said, looking to each hand in turn, "little hand says it's time to give the old lady a good licking." 

Mei shot up on her elbows in indignation. "Old lady! Excuse me! But what do you mean, old lady?"

Jamison licked his prosthetic hand and slicked his hair again. He gave her an especially rude wink as he did so.

"No worries, Mei," he said, as ever stretching out the vowel too long. "You're my old lady."

"Thirty-one isn't so old," she argued, "I still have plenty of energy for oh!"

He'd hauled her underwear down her thighs in a swift move, a thumb tucked under the blue bow on each side. With little ado, Jamie dove in. He laughed at her from between her legs, tongue lewdly hanging. The tip flicked deliberately against her. 

Mei blushed tremendously and said, "Oh! You're awful!" 

This set him off laughing again, laughing as he slipped his hands under her thighs and hoisted them up. The metal palm slid coolly across her skin, metal too battered to move in sleek style. That rasp of it shivered through her. Eyes still on her, heavy, hairy brow at a devious inward v, Jamie flicked his tongue along her again.

Resolute now, Mei crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him. It did nothing to quell the slow-moving heat in her gut, or the way his fingers flesh and light alloy dug into her thighs as he groped casually ever higher. 

"Aw, Mei..." He cackled it out, high and low then high again. 

"No."

He pouted, turning his lower lip out. She felt it at the crease of her thigh, and she huffed.

"Promise I'll be good," he said. "On me mother's grave, God rest her."

Mei sighed and looked crossly at him. Junkrat was drawing little circles along her belly, each swoop carrying his red-jointed finger lower. His breath moved hotly over her. The indelicate wagging of his tongue persisted. She did her best to ignore this, though he was very accurate in targeting her clit. 

"You said your mother sold you for a heap of scrap metal."

"Well, I lied, didn't I," he said cheerily, at last slithering that finger down between her folds. Jamie gave her nub a fond smack of a kiss. "'Course, she's still living pretty in Adelaide, queen of the city."

"And you're a prince charming?" she asked. "Is that how the story goes?"

"Got the royal crown, don't I?"

His teeth flashed wickedly. A long and thin and heated fissure ran through her, up from her opening, as Jamie licked a broad stripe from the soft and wetting recesses to the peak. He shifted his weight on his elbows, swapping hands as he did so.

Stubbornly she said, "I don't believe that you have it. The British royal crown."

"Now are you calling me a liar?"

The back strap of her bra was digging into her shoulder blades, and so Mei unclasped it at the front as she said, "Well, I'm sorry!" He eyed her breasts with interest as she wriggled out of her bra. "But it just doesn't seem possible. I know you, Jamison, and you're a very shameless braggart. No humility at all."

"And who's the liar here?" he said, indignant as he rubbed her nub in slow circles with a thumb. Each stroke sparked in her skin: rasp of a callus, hint of a nail (picked clean beneath the white by Mei, who'd scolded his dirtiness as he looked pleased). "Look at me, world's finest demolitions expert, and I'm face down 'tween your--"

Mei said, "Oh, please, stop talking about this, please and thank you very much!" very hot of face. 

Jamie's nose, so very large, scrunched. His eyes closed, rounded up into crescents as he smiled. The sweetness of it stuck her, as it always did, recklessly and without consideration for her sensibilities. It was that boyish smile that had first startled her into thinking perhaps this loud, unruly, dirty-mouthed and disrespectful young man with no regard for his elders was not _just_ a loud, unruly, dirty-mouthed and disrespectful young man with no regard for his elders. 

Of late Mei had many reasons to be glad he hadn't distinguished her as his senior. One of these reasons was how happily he descended to fuck his tongue into her. Fuck was a Jamison word, and it did not serve to name the fizzy bubbles that pop-pop-popped in her chest. 

Mei puffed her cheeks against the sensation. Go away! she thought. It was bad enough for her that sometimes after she did not mind how Junkrat would engulf her with arms and legs like an octopus. That she liked to fold her hands up with his hands and study the metal workings of his right hand. 

(An afternoon, sunny, outside the renovated compound: "Made it meself, and it's never let me down." He scratched his chin and squinted. "Well, except for the once or twice. That time in Dorado when it blew up..."

Mei had clucked at him then, unable to resist, asked to see it and how it worked. 

"Oo-ee," said Junkrat, delighted, "trying to get me to strip for you, eh, doc? Naughty, naughty."

She'd cursed at him in Mandarin for this rudeness, but Mei still spent an hour or so examining the nerve relays as he showed off the movement of each finger in turn.)

That hand stroked the underside of her thigh and then held her open so he could lavish with tongue and teeth a very focused and heated attention. Mei fussed with his hair and rose on her elbows, her breasts heavy and belly rumpling. His cheeks dimpled. The mole on his nose was set small and dark along the curve of nostril. Mei, with a strange shyness, touched her thumb to it.

Jamie made a sound - came up for air - said something like "va-va-boom!" - and then chomped down with lips over his teeth. Mei yelped, kicked her legs up, and grabbed on to his nose. 

"Oi! M'nose!"

"Ah! Sorry! I didn't mean to grab it like--"

Vengefully he chomped at her again, and again, a series of absurd and hurried, soft-lipped bites at thighs and intimate folds. Of all things, Mei began to laugh. It pealed out of her as she slapped lightly at his ruddy ears, his scarred scalp. 

"Teach you for laughing at me."

"What can you teach me!" She was laughing all through it, a hand now at her mouth as though to squash it back. But out it tumbled gaily anyway. "Oh, stop, you're being silly--" Mei pinched his nose again and made to lift his head.

He said, very nasally, "That's how you want to play it," and Jamie too laughed: horridly. Like the sound of a piston rapid-firing, or a tire squealing on pavement as it sought traction. What weird fondness swept through her. What a strange and savage, awful man. The libidinous movement of his tongue. The scraping calluses of his flesh hand, two fingers and then a third curled as a hook. 

Mei snortled into her hand, caught up in the laughing fit. He palmed her thigh with the prosthetic hand, metal scratched, knuckles dinged, the works yet carefully cleaned. Then her hip, then her side. Two fingers without nails to brush at the heavy swell of her breast, pulled leftward. A stronger grasp. A squeeze as he stroked his twice-scarred thumb around her entrance. None of this bore the mark of deliberation. She laughed for the eagerness: how he grumbled and growled and giggled, each touch an impulse or a fast-sparking fascination. A cord of thin and tense-strung muscle in his darkly freckled shoulder, this thrummed as if plucked.

What did it mean? Only that he was exciteable. That was all. Young men were like that. Mei looked ever to the future - is it there? Is it waiting? - but every rough and eager touch he scattered upon her signified what she already knew, that he was made fully of and for the present. This moment, this instant. She could not imagine such full-hearted and fool-headed recklessness: what absolute surety it required, or what cynical acceptance.

Jamison groaned into her cunt and said, "Aw, Mei, bet I can blow your pussy up in under a minute."

"年轻人, 别说话!" said Mei. She was laughing again, more outraged. Some months ago she would have shoved him off her for such vulgarity. Some months ago, they would have never bared flesh to each other. "Someone should scrub out your mouth. Or freeze those lips shut."

"Then you'd never have fun." He wiggled those three rude fingers.

"I have a more rounded idea of fun than you."

"How's about I demonstrate my idea first?"

She hummed longly. Junkrat laid his cheek on her thigh and batted his eyelashes, of which he had very few and all of them light and thin. As if to compound the offer, he gave her breast another squeeze. This moment would pass. All moments did. The present was fleeting, the future broad beyond measurement. She thought she would like to live in this moment while it lasted.

Mei said, "Hm. Well, you may try." She made a fist and pumped it once. "祝你好運! I'm sure that you can do it!"

"Bottoms up!" was his cheery reply, and he dove in.

By Mei's bleary reckoning, it took quite a bit longer than minute. Her toes got that gooey feeling, her thighs shivery like jelly fresh-freed of a mold. She made a soft "oh! yes! that's very good!" and clung to his head and curled as much as she might about that single, throbbing, glowing hot point bursting now inside her.

Mei fell back panting with a hand over her face and her other arm cast across her bosom. She was heaving for breath. 

Jamie lifted his long head to grin at her. The sanded-to-a-point tips of his incisors showed, and the teeth just behind them. He grinned like a maniac would and with his chin wet. Careless, he wiped his face on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said weakly. "Good job. That was great." She shuddered fully and collapsed even further, damp with sweat. "If you want." Mei swallowed and flapped her hand. "Do you like to."

"What're you on about?" Jamison looked wholly pleased with himself. It made his eyes crinkle up. "That was just to get your engine warmed up."

"Oh!" said Mei. Such vigor. She said as much.

"Like you're so old yourself," he scoffed. "You can keep a lick and keep on tickin'. What d'you say, _Mei_ -te? Think it'd be _ice_ to try?"

"Only if you find better things to do with your tongue," she said, "than make silly jokes."

"I nicked that ice one off you."

"Yes, but it's much cuter when I say it."

"Cute!" he said. "I'll show you cute!"

Mei did not know what was so cute about Junkrat pretending to chew on her breasts while he fingered her (and quite thoroughly); but there was something endearing about it all the same. As a scientist, it was in her nature to follow through on all experiments, the better to understand and predict the future. As Junkrat buried his face in her bosom and there began to recite a litany of filthy (oh, very filthy) things involving her "big, beautiful breasts," Mei predicted she would, regrettably, ask him to stay. She wouldn't want him limping off in the small hours of the morning on that leg. What if he should fall on the stairs? 

"Aw," he said, nose scrunching. "You're sweet on me."

"No such thing," she said, having showered and bullied him into wiping off with a wet cloth. "Get up so I can change the sheets."

He said, "Nah, c'mere," and he looped his freckled arm about her hip and hauled Mei back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) don't speak, young man (hold your tongue)  
> 2) do your best


End file.
